Riloth 19th the 15th

Dear Spellbook,

I did not make it back to my room last night in a state to tell you about the day. I don’t want to spoil it for you, but yesterday went, to put it lightly, poorly

Riloth the 19th the 14th

I went through the same motions from yesterday up to the point where I got to Levar’s, I do not feel the need to recount that again. I feel bad for the drunk dwarf who is now cursed to be eternally pestered by the Parlor guards, I should see if I can dissuade them next time. I treated the interaction with Levar the same as before as well, struggling to keep my annoyance with the man in check for selling me possibly tainted goods.

As we went behind the counter to retrieve the potions I attempted to put on a casual curious air and asked, “So, just out of curiosity, what would happen if someone, say, drank all these potions over the course of an hour?”

At my question, Levar guffawed to himself, “Hah, that would be something, wouldn’t it? Besides blowing a small fortune in short order, you would get ill. Very ill. Let me think, hmmmm.” As he thought he scratched his chin and looked at the ceiling. “It would take a little time, but after taking three of these, you would almost certainly throw up violently within a half hour. Seizures would follow the vomiting, and you’d lose consciousness for, hmmm, someone your size, 12 to 14 hours. Give or take. If you took all four, I would be surprised if you even woke up after passing out, but if you did your liver would have ceased to function and you would need to see a Blessed within a few days to heal that or it would prove fatal.”

I did not know what to say. I just stood there, curious face turned to a deadpan stare, trying to suppress my rage born of the prior irritation. I am not a man prone to anger. I tend to brush things off, give people the benefit of the doubt when slighted, and move on. For some reason now, I could not do that. I burned with anger.

Between clenched teeth I asked, “Any chance it could cause paralysis of the, I don't know, let's say legs?”

“No, not from clarity potions alone, but you know what, I bet if you took all four clarity potions with the potion of foregone sleep that might just happen. You would need to take four though for the deep whale excrement to build up to the point of reacting with the dryad’s bark in such a manner. That was a very astute assessment, very few know of the paralytic effect caused by mixing dryad’s bark and deep whale excrement, have you formal training in alchemy?”

Deep whale excrement.

I don’t know if you know this, but a deep whale is a giant lobster that lives on the ocean floor and basically lives off the excrement of other animals. That potion is the concentrated excrement of a monster that lives on the excrement of other creatures.

At least that explained the taste.

“YOU SELL THIS LITERAL SHIT TO PEOPLE?! I COULD HAVE DIED, I ALMOST DIED, THIS IS DISGUSTING, HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO PEOPLE?” I exploded at him.

Shocked by the sudden turn in the conversation, Levar jumped back, breaking some glasses in the process, “Ah, yeah, umm, it, it its the standard Alchemist Guild recipe. The excrement is thoroughly sterilized and filtered of all unwanted, uhhh, materials. The dryad’s bark is purchased from the druids, no dryads are harmed at all.” Recovering himself he continued, “My potions are made from only the finest of ingredients, ethically and sustainably sourced.”

Only partially listening as soon he stopped talking I continued my tirade, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME I COULD DIE?! I ALMOST DIED”

At this he was confused, looking down at the potions still in his hand. Obviously not remembering selling me this exact order the today before “I, uhh, I am sorry. I thought you were a knowledgeable adventurer well versed in the risks of potions. It's common knowledge to never take more than two potions in a single day, three maybe in extenuating circumstances. You were so confident in your order. Who would drop 80 gold on a purchase they knew nothing about? That, uh, is the total cost by the way.”

At the last statement, my anger collapsed and I was overcome with embarrassment. I had done exactly that. I had asked no questions and tossed back those potions without a care in the world. I really could not blame him. Now in retrospection, I can acknowledge this, but in the moment I was overcome by rage-tinged embarrassment. Throwing my entire purse of coins into the counter, I ripped the parcel of potions from his hands and stormed out.

Ten steps out of his shop, I remembered that he did not mention the side effect of painful spell casting. Wavering I almost turned back, but my shame won out and went out to set up my minions. I don’t like that I have already missed collecting reports or setting up my minions three times. I set this up to capture minor ripples that might be caused by another person in the resets, and I fear I may be missing it.

Over the weeks I have better learned to approach Rail in a manner that doesn’t involve a chase through the alleys of Crossroads. I didn’t want you to think I’ve been repeatedly torturing this small child. I found that if I call her by name and tell her Gill gave me her name, she's much more trusting, then when I see Gill I say Rail sent me. It's not like they are going to swap stories and check.

After setting up Rail I went to recruit Twiggy. Rail is a kind child and a hard worker, so I sought a way to approach her in a kinder fashion. Twiggy and his gang are just awful. One of the small pleasures of each reset is the look of shock on their face when I surprise them with a spell. I try to mix it up to keep the surprise fresh.

Twiggy and company were loitering in an alley as usual, celebrating their great goat heist success. As usual, I approached them with open hostility, I tried kindness once, they seemed to respond better to authority and right at that moment I felt like blowing off some steam.

“Hey, goblin face!” I yelled at the group, “Get over here, I have a job for you useless wastes of air.”

The boys looked at each other before grins spread across their faces. From along the side of the alley, they pulled out clubs made from discarded timbers. One of them even had a knife. I smiled back and as they approached began to cast Updraft with as much power as I could put behind it.

The world turned white and there was a searing pain in my head. The same pain I fought through to cast Light while laying paralyzed in the woods but amplified a hundredfold. I collapsed to the ground and shortly after felt as the adolescents started to beat me with their clubs. As they wailed on me I struggled to control my Will, to channel it into anything. The pain in my head was abating and my vision started to return, but that was quickly replaced by the damage dealt by the makeshift weapons.

I struggled to reach out to a font of power, any font to harness it to save myself. Fire, force, wind, travel, I could not get a hold of any of them. And then the beatings stopped, but the pain remained.

“Cam, I think we killed him. I ain’t never heard no one make a sound like that before.” One of them said.

Twiggy, Cam I guess but I’m not going to call him that, barked, “Quick! Drag him into the alley. We gotta get outta here, someone might have heard that.”

They dragged my broken, still alive and very much in pain body, behind a crate and fled. The one with the dagger must have stabbed me because I could feel the blood draining from my side with each heartbeat. Lying there, broken, bleeding, and unable to move, I had a moment to reflect that the presence of the mental pain bodes well for my Will gains persisting through resets. The things that go through your mind when you think you are about to die are strange, or maybe they are just a reflection of my normal scatterbrained thoughts.

My mind raced, what would happen if I died in a reset? Would I wake up again hungover, or would I simply be dead. Or worse, would I wake up thinking it was the first reset, unaware that I'd lived weeks here already. Doomed to die for eternity and never knowing it…

Spellbook, have I died before?

Spellbook, show me every entry I've ever written while I'm in these resets.

Entries 1-22 appear along with doodles

Ok good, nothing I don't remember. Except for those doodles, I was beginning to forget about those. It seems like ages ago I sat here wasting time and writing those.

So, back to my blood pouring out.

My mind kept racing and returned regularly to Daulf, he could help me. He could save me if he was here. And then I was on the Arcane Realm, standing before a Font I did not recognize, but the effects of the potions would not let me pierce it. I knew that I could, but when I tried the pain returned. I stood there outside that Font for what felt like hours, pushing with the force of all my Will and desperation to break into this unknown font. And suddenly, with Daulf in my thoughts, I broke through the barest amount, instinctively shaping the trickle power into one idea.

"Help!"

While I succeeded in doing something, at the time I did not know what. The pain returned in force and I passed out fully. I awoke to the pain receding and Daulf's voice.

"Illunia's tits boy! Who did this to you?”

I knew I was in bad shape, but hearing Daulf’s curse I realized it must be far worse than I suspected. Which is saying something because I believed I was about to die.

Daulf lifted me in his arms and started back towards the Parlor, he must have healed me while I was unconscious because the pain was now downgraded from blackout and each step only made me wish for the release of death instead of being at its door. At some point, I threw up all over Daulf. Two times in as many todays. Bless his probably oversized heart, Daulf didn’t even acknowledge it and just continued to reassure me that I would be okay.

He brought me to my room and ordered Simon to bring medical supplies. At this point, I was still unable to speak. I was missing teeth, my jaw was dislocated, and my tongue felt as if it filled my entire mouth.

Once I was settled, and Daulf started to administer healing of the mundane variety, he began to speak, “Boy, what kind of mess did you get yourself into? I thought the other two were the ones that needed watching, not you. Bet you are wishing you had taken me up on those sword lessons huh? I shouldn’t joke, this is almost certainly not your own fault, and a few weeks training in the sword would not have prepared you to face whatever was able to do this to you.”

He bandaged my wounds, checked my bones for fractures, and set the bones when one was found. He did this a lot, and every time felt more painful than the last. As he worked he spoke to me “You know, you remind me of my own boy, Illunia rest him. I didn’t get the chance to see him grow as old as you are now, but I see a lot of him in you. He loved helping. He’d follow his mother and me around, asking if he could assist in any way. If we didn’t give him something to do, he’d find something himself. I remember one time while preparing dinner when we told him we were ok without him, he went out to the garden, picked all the tomatoes, and brought them in for us. He was so proud, with the big basket of unripened green tomatoes, that we didn’t have the heart to tell him he did wrong. It turns out green tomatoes taste pretty good if you fry them.” At the retelling, Daulf’s face softened and he had a wistful smile.

“I bet you are thinking, ‘Helpful, that doesn’t sound like me at all' but you just don’t see yourself clearly. Sure you grumble when you are doing it, but no one has forced you to do any of the crazy things we’ve gone through since we met. When problems arise that need fixing, you don’t look for someone around to solve it, you step up without being asked. Even if you have no chance at succeeding. On the road to Edgewater and once there, you repeatedly put yourself in harms way without asking for anything in return. When we made the plan to assault the fortress, you volunteered and took the place of a soldier who had already been assigned. Do you even now realize that no one asked you, let alone forced, you to go? We were strangers. I was the only one there, besides maybe Trish, who knew you for what you were. No, you knew that it was the right thing to do and that you needed to be a part of it.”

He sat with me the rest of the night, but he grew quieter after that. I cannot reconcile this man with the view of him in my mind. No, that's not true. In my mind I see him as a kind caring man, I have just been refusing to accept it. I know he has killed sorcerers, he has told me as much. But he is not cruel. The opposite in fact. Maybe he really is all the Tower claims itself to be but falls short of. By all reports, the sorcerer’s that attacked Landing under the commands of that dragon were less than human. Cruel beasts that deserved to be put down. I am not like that, and he would see that. Right? I know I could reveal myself to him near the end of a reset and see how he would respond, but I do not think I could take the loss of the person I think he is if it proved to be a false front.

Riloth the 19th the 15th

I fell asleep with Daulf keeping me company and woke today hungover and miserable once more, but for the second day in a row that was a respite from the prior day's pains.

I went down to the Parlor floor, fully dressed, and collected all my winnings. I tried to more forcefully dissuade the guards from following me out of the building, but they did not relent. Sorry dwarven vagabond! I should stick to withdrawing only 40 gold if I don’t need it, and let you sleep off your bender in peace. I wish I could.

At Levar’s door, I stood collecting myself for a moment before walking in. When I entered he turned to me and greeted me with his customary response, which I did not interrupt this time, “Greeting young sir, welcome to Levar’s Books and Alchemy, what can I assist you with today?”

I had prepared my remarks, in an attempt to avoid getting carried away in anger, but my anger at Levar was now eclipsed by my fury at Twiggy. “I would like to purchase a potion clarity and one of foregone sleep. I also need some information you might be able to help me with.”

“Of course! The Potions will cost you 30 gold, the information will likely be free. What do you need to know?” He replied as he walked to gather the potions from behind the counter.

“I had heard of wizards experiencing inability to cast spells after drinking 3 or 4 potions of clarity. Have you heard of this? Is it a permanent condition?” I asked, trying to not sound too desperate.

“Oh that, no no, that is not caused by the potions at all, though they do have some nasty side effects if you drink that many. I must make this very clear, do not do that, it would lead to your death. What you have heard of is called Will poisoning. If an individual channels too much Will in too short a period of time, they will temporarily be unable to channel Will for a few days after. I understand the experience is very painful. In any given day it's safe to use double your maximum. If you use more than that in a short period you are likely to experience Will poisoning”

Somebody needs to regulate this potion industry. These things are very dangerous. Yeah, I suppose I could have done a little more due diligence before downing them back to back, but you’d expect these alchemists would want to protect themselves from disgruntled adventurers.

I thanked him for the information, which was actually very helpful and thorough, took the potions from him, and left. Outside I tried to summon a Light, but the pain was still present and I abandoned the attempt. It looked like I had another day of relaxation ahead of me. I did not want to risk a repeat of yesterday so I got Rail, Gill, Sam, and Julian set up and went back to the Parlor for an early lunch, to be followed by another night of bath side planning.

That brings us to now, in the bath.

Lying in silence last night, I contemplated halting Operation Minions, for obvious reasons. But now I think that would not be wise. Stopping would just be my pride getting in the way. Today I set them up as usual but with instructions for Simon to collect the pages. I need to develop a method of twinning I can produce quickly each morning despite my early morning diminished capacity.

Tal writes Report Ta #, Report Tb #, Report Tc #, Report Td #, Report R #, Report J #, Report S #, and Report G # on the top of 8 sheets

Lets refer to those as Report Templates. Hide the templates. Hide the report templates. Hide the Report Templates.

Report Templates disappear

I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were so sensitive. Case sensitive that is.

Maybe it's for the best no one is reading this and you (probably) aren’t sentient. Even I will admit that was a bad joke.

When I write -Good Morning #- with a number in place of the #, create 2 twinned copies of each Report Template with that number replacing #.

-Good Morning 15-

Report headings appear on the next 16 pages Tal rips out one copy of Report Ta 15

Report Ta 15

Hi, I’m Twiggy, and I am a giant walking pile of troll feces. If I were used to create a potion, it would turn the drinker into a larger smellier pile of excrement, though it's doubtful one worse than me could possibly exist.

Looks like this works.

When I write -Good Morning #-. Hide one copy of each twinned sheet. When I write -Good night #- show me the Reports for that number and the previous report of that number side by side.

Tomorrow we will test these out live.